Countless times.

"Beautiful boy we have here," the auctioneer yells. I keep my head down to look more desirable. More submissive is more desirable. I have to be sold here. If I don't get sold... I die. Unfortunately for them... I'm not ready to die yet. "17 years old."

Countless times, I've been put on this rickety, makeshift stage. I stare down at my bare feet on the old wood. Damn I'm the cleanest I've been in ages. Not that it's going to last long I'm sure. They always clean me up for these events. I'll be sleeping with the pigs tonight.

"Striking blue eyes," the disgusting man continues over his cigarette. "Shaggy black hair. Nice structure, about 5' 11."

Countless times I've been forced to hear ridiculous and degrading things about myself. Most people become broken from this. I've just become an asshole that somehow is still alive.

"Yes he has an ugly scar on him but he's still good." Oh yeah how could I forget? Lucky owner number... 11? Yeah 11 cut open my stomach writing his name with a knife. But wait... What the fuck is he talking about? Has he seen that scar on him from me? I'm far from good! If I don't get sold he doesn't get money so I'm sure that's his motive. Always money...

Countless times I've had to hold back... well everything. My thoughts. My feelings. That's how I became the jerk I am today.

The crowd mumbles before me. I hear more disgusting things about me. It use to hurt... it use to hurt bad. Now, it just fuels the fire in my heart to fight.

I hate them.

I hope they all suffer.

Countless times I've had to suppress what makes me human. I'm not human anymore. I'm just a shell of a person determined to bring down every single one of these imbeciles.

Ever since age... actually I don't even remember when I first got into the slave trade for this stupid organization.

Yes.

The biggest organization in the entire country has an underground slave trade. I'm part of it, obviously. Of course, I don't remember how I got apart of it. It's too far back for me to remember. Not that I'd particularly ever wanted to.

Around age 5 is the farthest back I can remember.

Age 5

"Why don't you do me a little favor?" A disgusting, bulky, alcoholic man spits in my face. "And stay the fuck out of my way!" He hits me so hard I fall to the ground with a grunt.

"Master, I'm so sorry," I look at the ground and notice a few drops of blood; dripping down and splattering on the cold wood floor along with tears. My hand touches my lip and I take it away to see blood on my once clean hand.

"What 'er ya' crying for?" He rolls his eyes. "Worthless son of a-" I miss the last part over the breaking of a beer bottle over my head causing everything to go black.

He was just the first.

Age 10

"Remember the hourly rate with the little runt," one of my owners says to a lanky guy in the doorway to a closet-like room with a mattress on the ground. My other owner who is an annoying female with a high voice that she always smacks her gum through, goes up to my other owner and kisses his cheek. Her bright red lipstick comes off on him.

"Nice job baby! You got another customer!" She smacks her gum and leans on my other owner. "Mommy can get her self a nice pair of shoes!" The lanky guy that was once in the doorway turns to me and smiles creepily. This happens every night. I use to be scared. However at that point... I became numb.

My owners find a new person every night. To trap in this small room with me. To do anything.

Anything.

Fuck them.

Fuck every person that came any night.

Age 12

The man, I never bothered to learn his name, yanks on my chain connected to my collar. Causing my head to turn quickly and hurt my neck and brain. "Such a rebellious lad," He punches me once more. I guess he thought I swore under my breath. I mean I did but he's practically deaf there's no way he could have heard me. He's too much of a dumbass to read lips. He's just searching for an excuse to beat me and let some steam off.

He yanks on my chain signalling for me to follow him. Of course, I do. He almost makes me fall down the stairs and we round the corner to the back door. He sets my chain up out there and I spend the night outside in the rain with the dogs.

At least the dogs are pleasant to look at.

Age 15

"Fuck you," she splashed saltwater on my wounds. I hold back a scream. I can't have her thinking she hurt me. It'll drive her crazy. Only 10 lashings. HA! Weak...

"Oh love. You're just not worth it." She throws me in the shed. This shed looks to be about 100 years old. There's no insulation, no cloth of any kind. Just gardening tools and the lawn mower. Like that bitch gardens. There's a foot of snow outside and I have pants and a shirt with a towel. Not even her dog to keep me company. I'm honestly surprised I didn't get hypothermia.

What will be next? Another horny guy who can't even get a prostitute to fuck him? Another women who needs a play thing to take her anger out on? Bring it. I won't quit until I find a way out. I won't die until I find a way to crush every single last one of them.

"I'll take him!" A small hand raises in the far back. It wasn't like those around it. Neither was the voice. The girl who said it sounded sure, brave and... kind? No one here is kind how can this wench be any of the sort. Many men and women grunt and groan as the small woman makes her way to the front of the crowd. "My name is Madeline McKay and I will take this boy."